


Babe you look so cool

by thetolkiengeek



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Bonnie and Clyde-ish, Getaway Driver Keith, Gun Violence, I wrote this when I was supposed to be working on something else, Inspired by Robbers by the 1975, M/M, Modern AU, Robbers AU, ambiguous ending, and also From Eden by Hozier, angsty ending, but not completely unhappy?, idk it is what it is, just fyi this doesn't end exactly happy, lance pov, somebody dies but dw it's not keith or lance, stealing cars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-30 18:36:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15102593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thetolkiengeek/pseuds/thetolkiengeek
Summary: “C’mon babe, let’s go!” Lance said, his heart beating in time to the police sirens. There was a time when he would have started to shake, but the gun now felt familiar in the palm of his hand.Indigo eyes met his, and Lance knew that look better than he knew his own mother. Life crackled in them, and Lance felt the familiar flame curl in his belly. This rush, it was unlike anything else in his life.--Or, the modern day Bonnie and Clyde AU nobody asked for





	Babe you look so cool

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, so I've got like 3 WIPs that I need to work on but this idea wouldn't leave my head, and Robbers by the 1975 came on shuffle and now we're here. It's sort of ambiguous and incomplete, but I like it.
> 
> Inspired by Robbers by the 1975 and the music video for From Eden by Hozier

The balaclava was starting to chafe, but Lance pretended he didn’t mind.

 

It was a familiar kind of itch, like the one crawling under his skin, the one that told him to move move move, keep moving, don’t stop running. The one that brought him to where he was, holding a gun to the head of the gas station clerk while his partner grabbed the money, a couple bottles of Dr. Pepper, and a bag of Barbeque Fritos.

 

“C’mon babe, let’s go!” Lance said, his heart beating in time to the police sirens. There was a time when he would have started to shake, but the gun now felt familiar in the palm of his hand. 

 

Indigo eyes met his, and Lance knew that look better than he knew his own mother. Life crackled in them, and Lance felt the familiar flame curl in his belly. This rush, it was unlike anything else in his life.

 

He and his partner ran out of the gas station and hopped in their stolen red Impala. Lance and he ran around in a familiar dance, Lance yanking out the gas pump and closing the valve, his partner running into the driver’s seat and throwing their loot in the back. Lance practically skid into the passenger seat.

 

“Go go go! Punch it” he yelled, looking behind him, seeing the sirens flashing, growing louder as they ran up.

 

Despite the hurried words, the car pealed out at a reasonable pace.

 

“Lance, for the last time, ‘punching it’ only makes us look more suspicious,” Keith said, tearing off his mask. His black hair was tied up in a low ponytail, but sweat still plastered down the baby hairs around his face. But his face was straight out of a magazine, and Lance thought he never looked so good.

 

Lance tugged off his own balaclava. “And that, babe,” Lance said, leaning over the console to kiss Keith on the cheek, “is exactly why you are the getaway driver.”

 

Keith turned his head at the last minute, capturing Lance full on the mouth. They both kept their eyes open, Keith’s violently violet eyes were glued to the road, but Lance let himself go cross-eyed trying to drink every bit of him in.

 

He felt every sensation like his body was a livewire--the press of the gun at his waistband, the sweaty strands of Keith’s hair, the hot desert wind moving through the open windows, and the harsh bite of Keith’s teeth on his lips. His heart raced and adrenaline pumped through his veins.

 

Keith pulled away, smiling and biting his lip. Lance’s own lips were buzzing, and he knew he looked dazed and lovesick.

 

“Cops gone?” Keith asked, glancing in the rearview mirror.

 

Lance turned around in his seat and scanned behind him, seeing nothing but the road distorted by heat.

 

“Yeah, we lost ‘em,” Lance said, turning back around and looking at the expanse of desert in front of them.

 

“ _ Now _ , we punch it,” Keith said, pressing in the clutch and shifting gears. 

 

Keith grinned and Lance laughed, and that itch buzzing always under his skin felt left behind in the dust.

 

\---

 

Lance measured time passing in cars. The hotels all looked the same, minor changes, but Lance remembers a particularly thrilling chase in a blue Buick, and he very vividly remembers the way Keith looked spread out on the backseat after they got away, the thrill of danger and sex running currents through them.

 

Lance remembers the black Optima, and the whispered  _ I love you _ ’s as Keith patched up a particularly nasty gunshot wound on Lance’s thigh.

 

He remembers the white Volvo, where Keith confessed that they only future he saw was with Lance, and they thought they were immortal.

 

Lance knew something was bound to break, this high was not meant to last. They were always begging for one more time, one more fight, and they weren’t going to win every single one.

 

But this job went so sideways, and Lance felt the dream that he and Keith had shatter like the fragile glass it was. 

 

Lance could barely remember what happened, but he knew that their first mistake was going back to their hometown. They had a cache there, and their funds were running low, but they never should have risked it.

 

Lance had felt like something was going to go wrong, and he begged Keith to stay, stay, stay. It was okay if they had to squat, they didn’t have to go out that night. The emergency cash would still be there next week. They could take a different car, just go.

 

But Keith was adamant, and Lance was always helpless when it came to Keith. So Lance grabbed his gun, Keith grabbed his, and they snuck around back to their old school.

 

They weren’t alone, and all Lance can remember is flashes. Gunfire, shattered glass, screams. Keith shrieking in pain as he punched his own brother in the face, shouting for Lance to help, do something. 

 

Lance held the gun up to Shiro, hands shaking worse than during his first job. He’d shoot him, if it was what Keith asked, but god he didn’t want to. Tears streamed down his face.

 

“Lance, leave him. Let’s go!” Keith said, and Lance tore his gaze away from Shiro. Keith’s face was streaked with tears, sweat, dirt, and blood, but Lance thought he still had a pretty kind of dirty face, even as everything was going wrong.

 

Lance remembers more gunshots, Keith shouting in grief, blood pooling on the floor of the locker room.

 

They ran, Keith just taking Shiro’s keys, and hopped into the black Camaro. Lance had never seeing Keith fumble the gearshift like that before, and that’s when he knew it was bad. This time, as they pealed out of the parking lot, no desire and no thrill accompanied the adrenaline. 

 

Keith was being reckless, and Lance couldn’t bring himself to care. 

 

Now everybody’s dead, and they’re driving past their old school, and Lance has his gun and the knowledge that he would have shot if Keith had asked but he didn’t and it didn’t make a difference because Shiro was dead anyway. Sirens wailed in the not-so distance, and Lance didn’t even bother looking back as they punched it.

 

This time, as they left their home behind, they really didn’t have anything to come back to. This time, the balaclava was starting to chafe and Lance didn’t have it in him to pretend that he didn’t mind.

 

But Lance looked over at Keith, Keith glancing at him, and they took comfort in each other, and they rode off into the sunrise of another day. It was grimmer than any they had seen, but hell if Lance and Keith were going to let that stop them. 

 

One more time, one more fight. They could do this.

**Author's Note:**

> Don't forget to leave comments and kudos if you liked this!
> 
> (I might be persuaded to write an actual Bonnie and Clyde AU set in, like the 20s and 30s, and probably will end happier, so...)


End file.
